


Dreams

by Plasticgalaxy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Dreaming, F/M, Heartbreak, Loss of love, Sadness, Solavellan, really it's just all sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 02:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17613929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plasticgalaxy/pseuds/Plasticgalaxy
Summary: He wasn’t dead, she knew that much. No, he was still out there, somewhere. And she knew because he came to her. In the wee hours of the morning when dreams are forgettable, he would walk the fade and pay fleeting visits.





	Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece of writing in a good 6 months or so. I was looking up solavellan artwork the other night and got inspired to write this drabble. Full disclosure: I haven't actually played the Trespasser DLC (it's not available on PS3) so I may have taken some creative license with the timeline of events.

“In any event, I would like to go over the texts that were found by Leliana’s scouts last week. I believe I have discovered something we can use against Corypheous.”

She wasn’t sure when she stopped listening. Leaning over Solas’ shoulder to peer at scribbled notes and rough translations, she caught a faint scent of sweet oranges tinged with clove. It was a familiar scent; the elves of her clan often bathed in waters steeped with aromatic flowers and oils. But now, with a hand on the back of his chair and another planted on his desk, with a mere four inches between their heads, with his gentle, melodic voice humming beside her, it was different. His own scent, the vapors off his skin as he’d settled into a silken robe after a bath, the familiarity of an oft-worn tunic, mingled with the bright citrus and the woody spice. It had been only a moment, only a whisper of perfume, but it was so intoxicating it made her mind spin. She thought then of moving in closer, just enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him. She thought of kissing him, of climbing into his lap, of feeling his body against hers…

There had been a dream. It had been a week ago now, and she couldn’t stop thinking about him. But was it  _ merely _ a dream? She could’ve sworn that, after that, Solas had stolen many a knowing glance at her. Was it… real?

But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask. Nor had she been able to find a moment alone with him. But now here they were, her resolve slowly ebbing away as she chased his heady scent and lost herself in the melody of his speech.

“Don’t you agree, Inquisitor?”

The abrupt silence that followed his question jarred her from her fantasies. Her eyes focused on the papers below, scrambling for purchase amongst words and sketches and quips but finding no cohesive thoughts.

“Inquisitor?”

He was looking at her now. His head turned just a quarter towards her, his eyes seeking her own that she had to make a conscious effort to not give away to him. But she faltered. Her gaze left the page. For a split second there was a connection as her attention flicked towards him, and it was as if she became locked into place.

An answer. He was expecting an answer. What was the question? What… were…

But before she could even form the thought, she had chanced another wisp of his scent and lost herself. Her fingers had curled against the ridge of his jaw, gently but firmly urging him to turn his head to her fully. He had barely time to simply obey when her lips were crashing into his, desperate with unfulfilled need, aching with the intense curiosity of wondering if it would be the same as the dream. A quiet sound of surprise hummed in his throat, and she knew he was still gazing upon her, willing himself to see through her tightly shut eyelids.

After a few long-lived moments she pulled away. She had been too forward, too presumptuous. She had made her point, perhaps too much. It had been a mistake, unprofessional, unbefitting of the leader of the Inquisition…

“ _ Vhenan. _ ”

The word, barely a choked whisper on his lips, a soft gasp of surprise, stopped her in her tracks. Her thoughts halted, and she frantically searched his eyes for an answer. Any answer.  _ Just say it out loud. I know it. But I need to hear it. _ Her answer came without words as their mouths connected again, initiated by him this time. Beneath his skin she could feel his hunger, his desperation trying to claw through his cool, calculated exterior. He  _ needed _ her. And, oh god, she absolutely  _ needed _ him, right now. Her hand snaked up to the curve behind his ear, his settled at her bent waist, as the kiss intensified.

She pulled away again. She had to know. God, it ached so much and she was desperate to know, now that he was back here with her.

“My love, why did you ever leave to begin with?”

He gazed up at her blankly. His expression was serene with adoration but heavy with a reigned-in lust, though absolutely nothing shone behind his eyes anymore. He was the shell of Solas.

She sighed as her heart sunk in her chest. She gazed around the room; Parts of the rotunda’s muraled wall gave way to rough crystalline edges that disintegrated away into nothingness.

It wasn’t real. She was in the fade, but she was alone. Simply replaying memories and clinging to the ghosts of a different time. A happier time. A more innocent time.

She closed her eyes and when she reopened them, she found herself laying in bed. It took a moment to adjust to the pale moonlight that filtered in through gauzy curtains. Faint shadows danced lazily across the vaulted ceilings, disappearing amongst the rafters.

He wasn’t coming back.

It had been nearly a year since Corypheus was defeated. Nearly a year since she’d been championed as the bravest woman in all of Thedas. Nearly a year since the love of her life disappeared without a single word or goodbye. He wasn’t dead, she knew that much. No, he was still out there, somewhere. And she knew because he came to her. In the wee hours of the morning when dreams are forgettable, he would walk the fade and pay fleeting visits. These weren’t memories of fumbled pinings or of first kisses, they were the unique callings of a man who couldn’t bear to part with his love, no matter how far away he was or how much he had wronged her. She’d wake those mornings with a tingle still on her lips, or a warmth still in her belly. It’s how she  _ knew _ he’d been there.

But it had been months since the last time she’d felt it. He was no longer reaching out for her. This night, her lips felt chapped and her belly was knotted. She was also aware of the dull throbbing ache in her arm and wrist, a hot chill that scraped at her bones and sent shivers of repulsion up her nerves. Despite Corypheous being dead and gone, there had still been a lot of work to close lingering rifts and dispatch rogue followers. The stress had taken its toll out on a mark that was never meant for her mortal body. Its usual thrum had given way to a prickly static, which eventually devolved into a constant wet fire of nerve pain and festering flesh.

None of that compared to the wretched feeling like a stone stuck in her heart.

“ _ Vhenan… _ ”

Her voice sounded small and cold in the vast bedroom and was nearly swallowed by the whisper of a wind that began to pick up.

“Where have you gone?”


End file.
